A broken mirror
Seven years of bad luck
Or just a more fascinating mosaïc
Jagged shards
In the hard ceramic
Can I see pieces of myself
Pick up the phone!
Someone detonate a bomb
I need to stop this ringing in my head
No, listen
The crescendo of breaking glass
Becomes a steady rain, a grey fabric of sound
This is the way
We will always be broken
Pieces trying to remember a whole
And there never was
More than just
A memory
---
No comments:
Post a Comment